


At Nibelheim in October

by sheepsong



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: spoopy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-28 19:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21141905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepsong/pseuds/sheepsong
Summary: Yuffie should never have been here. Vincent should never have answered his phone. But here they are, and here are their ghosts.





	At Nibelheim in October

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something I started a while back and never got to finishing. Since it's almost Halloween, I'm posting it to motivate myself to get it done. Here's to writing more fanfic in 2019!

Vincent hadn't been back to Nibelheim since his last, painful tour of the manor: on his trips to visit Lucrecia he took the long way around the village, through the mountains and deserts. He'd never stopped to think about why: it was as basic as breathing.

When Yuffie called him that day, he'd already made his mind up not to answer. It was pure luck she'd reached him at all; he was in an open canyon between two steep, high shelves of rock. Some fluke of satellite positioning.

After the fourth missed call he gave up, sat down and waited for the fifth.

"Vince, you _answered!_ What's shakin'?"

"Why are you calling me?"

"Well..." Her voice pitched downward, slyly; he sighed inwardly. "I don't suppose you happen to be anywhere near Nibelheim? Only-"

"Only what, Yuffie?"

"Only... I kinda went back to see what Deepground left behind, and it's whack, Vince, I really need some backup. I already called Reeve, and he said to try you first."

Vincent shifted the phone to his other hand and settled his pack back on his shoulders. "When you say 'whack'..."

"I mean even the monsters are scared. How far away are you?"

"I can be there tomorrow if I take the pass past the old reactor."

He heard her breath hissing sharply. "You sure that's safe? The bridge was out when I went by. Had to go rappelling and it wasn't fun."

"That's none of your concern. What were you doing up there?"

"You'll see when you get here. Seriously. I'm camped about half a day out by the foot of Mount Nibel, remember the cave where we stopped off right after digging you out of your coffin? Call me when you're close. And Vincent?"

"Yes?"

"Don't travel at night." She hung up abruptly.

Vincent could see just as well at night as he could in daylight; he wondered briefly what the reason could be for her last cryptic warning. He shrugged to himself as he set off; it was surely a childish superstition of hers. If he recalled correctly, she was scared of all manner of things: larvae, spiders, the dark itself. Whatever it was, he could handle it.

The next day, the sun was dropping low over the horizon as Vincent began to descend Mount Nibel. The broken bridge hadn't been a problem. He couldn't quite make the jump on his own, but the Beast had managed it in one joyful leap; the hour of chasing prey through the rocks afterwards had been worth the time saved on climbing. He checked his phone. No signal, again: he was too high up and too far from the town proper. Still, from here the cave wasn't far; if he made good time he could be there that night. It was still warm for autumn, and he pulled his cloak away from his face and let the wind blow in his hair.

The pack seemed to weigh heavier on his shoulders the further downhill he walked. Vincent remembered his father telling him, as a child, that gravity was stronger the closer one was to the centre of the Planet. Or perhaps it was psychological, that he just didn't want to visit Nibelheim again. He'd never consciously thought about it before, but he'd never have gone this way if Yuffie hadn't asked.

"Who's that?" The voice was soft in his ear, and he froze, his stomach churning."Who is she, Vincent?"

He could feel the warm breath on the back of his neck, the words so familiar - "Lucrecia-" he choked on the name. It was so dark, suddenly. His cloak flapped noisily as he spun around, searching. Where had he been going? There was no one behind him, but he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I've missed you, Vincent."

He sank to his knees and into the dark.

Vincent woke to firelight. He could hear the clink of tin and running water, and raised himself up on one elbow. He was in a cave with sunlight streaming in from outside; after a moment he recognised it as their old campsite by the odd colour of the stalagmites around the entrance. He remembered Yuffie smashing one to pieces to see if there was materia inside.

"You're awake, then?" Her face appeared upside-down in front of him. "Glad to see it. I thought you were a goner. Again." Her tone was matter-of-fact, but her eyes flashed dangerously.

"What happened?" He shook his head - he'd had the oddest dream, Lucrecia taking his hand-

"What _happened_ is, you didn't listen to me, did you?" He followed her with his eyes as she went from the spring at the back of the cave and back to the fire, her whole body rigid with anger. "I _told_ you not to travel at night and you went right on ahead anyway. You're just lucky I got worried this morning when you didn't call and went hiking up to find you." She put a can of water on the fire and sat down beside him. "I couldn't talk for long, because I didn't want to be outside. What happened to you last night? When I found you, you were passed out in the middle of the path. Took me three hours to get you back down here, and you looked like _hell._"

A wave of nausea hit Vincent suddenly, and he gagged, stumbling to the cave entrance. Before he could make it, Yuffie had him by the collar. "Vince, don't, if you have to hurl for god's sake do it inside. _They know you're here_." She handed him a paper bag with a wry smile. "Airship issue."

He stared at the inside of it for a moment, then shoved it aside despite the cold, sick feeling. "Yuffie. _What is going on?_"

She sighed and seemed to crumple, gradually, slumping her shoulders. "Have some tea. It'll help." She wrapped the steaming can in a rag and handed it to him; it smelled comfortingly of ginger. "What happened to you last night?" she repeated. He shook his head, taking small sips of tea. He still felt confused. When he moved there were tiny, brightly coloured flecks in the corners of his vision. "I don't remember. I dreamed..."

"Of what?" She leaned forward eagerly, some of the light returning to her eyes.

"...Of nothing. Of those who are dead and gone." Her head flicked away from him, one hand reaching to her face half-absently. "What's wrong with this place?"

She looked him in the eyes, fully serious. "There's no one in Nibelheim. Place is empty. But I went walking through the town square three nights ago and my mom started talking to me."

"Your mother-"

"She died when I was six, and you think I'm crazy. So did Reeve. I lied, Vince, he told me to come back to Edge and get some tests. But there's _something_ out there and I _have to know_." Her whole body shook with conviction, she was leaning forward into his face. "You with me?"

Vincent felt the brush of warm breath on his neck again, and his hand shook as he put down the can of tea.

"All right. Where do we begin?"


End file.
